Moving On (21 page)

He supposed she’d be slurring her words again and not remember most of the evening. She’d have a raging hangover tomorrow, too, and be grouchy.

They’d agreed last time that she’d not go clubbing again, that she was past that stage in life. Or he thought they’d agreed. It didn’t seem to have got through to her.

As for tonight, he’d already checked the fridge, ready to start cooking a meal, because it was his turn, and found almost nothing to eat. She’d said she’d do the shopping if he looked after the cars, but she wasn’t doing it. She didn’t seem to have a clue, actually. He’d better take her out to the supermarket and show her what basics she needed to buy. He’d start showing her how to cook, too. He was surprised her mother hadn’t taught her more, because Molly was a superb cook. No, scrub that. If Rachel dug her heels in, nothing would move her, certainly not a gentle person like Molly. He’d seen that with the wedding preparations.

A couple of times this week, Rachel hadn’t bothered to plan a meal and they’d had to get takeaways, but he didn’t want to live like that. He liked healthy food and salads, not greasy, heavily salted chicken and chips. It had never even occurred to him that Rachel would be totally useless as a cook or that she’d be such a slovenly housekeeper. She hadn’t done any washing for days. Did she think clothes got clean by magic? There was a pile of her dirty clothes in a corner of the bedroom.

He gathered his own things together and put a wash on. It took all of three minutes to do that. Not exactly hard work.

He wasn’t old-fashioned about a woman’s role and had expected to take his share of the housework. But he wasn’t going to do it all, and he certainly wasn’t going to pick up her dirty underwear. No way.

He went out to the local supermarket, buying food mainly, but also some toilet rolls, because they were nearly out of those.

After he got back, he fried a steak and cooked some low-fat chips in the oven, adding a nice, crunchy salad. He started to eat but felt so depressed, he pushed it away half-eaten. After staring at it for a few moments, he yanked the plate back and forced himself to finish it. He needed some decent food after this past week.

Brian checked his emails one final time, then got ready to go home from work.

‘Coming out for a swift one?’ someone called.

‘Got something on today.’ He didn’t tell them he couldn’t afford to go drinking. Only his boss knew about that.

He felt upset that his mother hadn’t replied to his email. He didn’t deserve a reply, he knew that now – but somehow, he’d still expected one. She surely didn’t intend to take off and never associate with them again?

He’d hate that.

He stopped at the supermarket and checked out all the special offers. Two for the price of one on packets of carrots. He could chop them up and take them to work with his sandwiches.

At the end of the aisle, he bumped into the woman who’d helped him with the cleaning things. She was about to walk past, but he stopped her and said, ‘I just want to thank you for helping me last Sunday.’ He could see she didn’t remember and he should have smiled and walked on, but she looked so healthy and nice, he added, ‘With the cleaning materials and the cookery book.’

Recognition dawned. ‘Did you try any of the recipes?’

He nodded. ‘Three of them. And they were good, too. First time I’ve ever cooked. When I get on my feet again, I’m going to try more things. At the moment, it’s whatever’s cheapest.’

Which reminded him that he couldn’t chat anyone up, because he couldn’t afford to take her out. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. You were a big help.’

‘Lose your job, did you?’

‘Not exactly. Got kicked out of home – and my mother was right to do it. But it’s going to take me a while to get myself sorted, and I had to put down a month’s rent in advance, so I’ve not got much left to live on.’

She smiled. ‘You sound like my brother. Mum kicked him out because he wouldn’t even pick up after himself.’ Her smile faded. ‘We haven’t heard from him since.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She hesitated. ‘Um . . . would you like a cup of coffee? I’ve just finished my shift. My shout. I’ve just won two hundred pounds on a scratch card and I’ve no one to celebrate with.’

He looked at her, wondering if she felt sorry for him, then decided the reason for the invitation didn’t matter. He’d like to get to know her better. ‘I need to finish the shopping first.’

‘I could help you, if you like. I know all the specials, since I work here, and I can probably give you a few hints about what to buy. Don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m being pushy. My mother says I could organize for England.’

He smiled. ‘Any help gratefully received. I’ve still got my L-plates on for this shopping stuff. I’m Brian, by the way, Brian Taylor.’

‘I’m—’

‘Carol Ryder,’ he filled in. ‘You were wearing a name tag last week and I remembered the name. I don’t know any other Carols.’

She gave him what looked like a nod of approval. ‘My friends call me Carrie, though. Right then, let’s sort out some food for you.’

When they’d finished, he seemed to have more in his trolley than last week and yet had spent less. He’d definitely eat better, thanks to Carrie’s help.

They loaded the bags into his car, then she led the way across the car park to a small café at the end of the row of shops. He’d never even noticed it before.

‘This is my cousin’s place,’ she said. ‘She’s only had it a few months. She’s a good cook if you’re ever looking for a hearty meal.’

He decided to be utterly honest with her. ‘I won’t be able to eat out for a while.’

The coffee was wonderful, her cousin was another cheerful, healthy-looking woman, though not as pretty as Carrie.

When the café got busy, Carrie said, ‘Just excuse me for a minute or two. Mel’s getting swamped and needs a bit of help.’ She went round clearing dirty cups and plates off tables and whisking them out to the back, so Brian followed suit.

In the rear, she said, ‘Mel’s kitchen hand didn’t turn up tonight. I can’t leave her like this.’

‘Tell me what to do.’

‘You don’t have to work for your coffee.’

‘I’ve nothing else to do. I don’t mind.’

When Mel came rushing in and saw what they were doing, she hugged her cousin and then hugged Brian, too.

He’d never have considered clearing up a fun thing to do, but with Carrie and Mel cracking jokes and teasing him about how clueless he was, the time passed quickly.

Once the rush had died down, Mel came in and flopped on a chair. ‘Phew! I don’t know what I’d have done without you two. I’m going to have to find new help for Saturday nights and Sundays. I can’t be doing with an unreliable guy.’

‘You need a kitchen hand?’ Brian asked. ‘Just for those two nights?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got one, but she can’t work weekend evenings.’

‘Look . . . I could do with some extra money. I might not be much use, though. Carrie can tell you how little I know about cooking and that sort of thing. But I’d promise to be reliable.’

Mel looked at him speculatively. ‘The pay’s not good. However, I can not only throw in a hot meal each night – but you can take the unusable leftovers home with you.’

He beamed at her and stuck out his right hand. ‘Done.’

‘Can you continue working tonight?’

‘Definitely.’

Carrie gave him another of those nods of approval. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll see you around.’

The café closed at ten, like most of the shops in the centre, which was a relief to Brian, whose feet were aching. But he went home with a stomach full of the leftovers of a cottage pie that he’d shared with Mel, and some other bits and pieces in takeaway containers, along with his shopping.

‘It’d only be thrown away,’ Mel said cheerfully. ‘Nine o’clock tomorrow morning, OK? We get a lot of Sunday shoppers popping in for coffee and cakes.’

‘Yes.’

He drove home feeling good about this. His father would throw a fit at him for taking on such a menial job but he rather thought his mother would approve.

At nine o’clock Molly heard a car drive down from the hotel and stop nearby. She went to peer out of the window. It was Euan. As he got out, he stretched, easing his back as if it was aching.

Worry about him overcame prudence and she went to join him outside his house, only a minute’s walk down the hill.

He turned to watch her come towards him, smiling and rotating his shoulders again.

‘Is it done?’

‘It is. Those packers were wonderful, and so was the cleaning team.’ He turned to look at the house. ‘Did my things arrive safely?’

‘Yes. Avril saw them into the house. Um . . . Euan, have you had anything to eat?’

‘No. And if you’re offering to feed me again, yes, please. I’m taking shameful advantage of you, but I will make it up to you, I promise.’

‘Come up to the caravan when you’re ready, then.’

As she walked away, she heard him open the front door of his house and wished she could see inside, but it hadn’t been opened for viewing. If this was his showpiece for the bigger, detached houses, it must be something special, because the others were beautifully built and finished.

He was up within ten minutes.

‘Everything OK?’ she asked.

‘Perfect. Avril’s even hung up my clothes. All I have to do is unpack my computer and set it up.’ He sniffed. ‘Something smells good.’

‘It’s just home-made soup and toasted sandwiches. I’d have done something better, but I wasn’t sure you’d want a meal. You might have grabbed one on the way back.’ She realized she was babbling nervously and stopped herself from saying anything except, ‘Glass of wine or cup of coffee?’

‘Wine, please. You’re joining me, surely?’

She poured him a glass and went to take her own half-empty wine glass from the shelf. ‘I was ahead of you.’ She raised the glass. ‘Here’s to your new home.’

He clinked his against it. ‘And to good friends who help out when you need them.’

It was so good to feel useful again. She’d missed that dreadfully.

At eleven o’clock that evening someone knocked on the door of the flat and Jamie opened it to find two of Rachel’s friends holding her up and laughing hysterically. Her head was lolling and she had no shoes on.

‘Brought her home for you. She’s absolutely legless.’

One of them giggled and added, ‘We didn’t let her go off with that guy, though. You owe us one for that.’

Shocked rigid, he took his wife from them. ‘Where’s her handbag?’

‘Oh, nearly forgot.’ One of them passed it to him. ‘Sorry about the shoes. Couldn’t find them.’

Rachel’s eyes weren’t focusing and she was mumbling something. He wasn’t at all sure she’d even recognized him. ‘Thanks.’

‘Got to go. Taxi’s waiting.’

He nudged the door shut with his hip and carried Rachel into the living area. It was the smell which alerted him to the fact that she’d thrown up all over herself. Grimly, he took her into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes, then his own. Although she squirmed and protested, he held her under the shower till she was, at least, clean, then wrapped her up in a bath towel.

‘Sleepy,’ she murmured and closed her eyes.

In case anything else went wrong, he put her in the spare bed. He wasn’t risking her vomiting over him during the night.

Then anger took over, such boiling fury that it was ages before he got to sleep. She’d been ready to go off with someone, had she? So drunk she didn’t care, or was this something she’d done before? What price their marriage vows?

Handsome is as handsome does
, his granny used to say. Well, Rachel might be good looking, but her behaviour wasn’t at all handsome. In fact, it sickened him.

Eleven

On Saturday morning, Molly woke up early, as usual. As she was sitting enjoying her first cup of tea of the day, a figure in running gear trotted past her caravan. Euan. She smiled. She might have known he was into fitness and exercise. She enjoyed a brisk walk, but she wasn’t into running.

The sales office wasn’t open till ten, so she planned to go shopping first. Had Euan meant it about doing some housekeeping for him? She’d better find out exactly what he wanted.

He came back after half an hour, so she waited a few minutes, then walked down to his house.

He opened the door, looking rosy with damp hair, as if he’d just showered. ‘Come in!’

‘I only wanted to ask if you’d like me to do some grocery shopping for you when I do mine this morning.’

‘I don’t have any early appointments today. Let’s do it together. That’ll be much more fun. When will you be ready?’

‘Ten to eight? I don’t think the local supermarket opens till eight.’

‘Are you always up so early?’

‘Yes. I wake up automatically soon after five. It used to drive Craig mad. He was a night owl, but dragged himself out of bed early a couple of times a week to go to the gym at work because the chairman is big on exercise.’ And hadn’t Craig been grumpy on those mornings!

‘I love running and most sports. Do you play golf?’

‘Heavens, no. I’m useless at ball games.’

‘Once this village is up and running, I intend to play quite often.’ He looked longingly towards the nearest green, where three men were watching intently as another made a careful shot from near the hole.

‘Good luck to you. Um . . . before we set off, do you have any food in the house? We don’t want to buy something if you have it already.’

‘I’ve only got a few bits and pieces. Look, come in and I’ll show you, then if you can take over keeping the basic supplies available here, it can be part of your job.’

She stopped in the hall to stare round. ‘This house is very different from the row houses.’

‘Yes. The detached places are quite a bit more upmarket. We’ll do a proper tour another time, because you may have to show this one to people. See – formal lounge/dining, great room, utility room and home office downstairs. Two bedrooms on the middle floor, each with ensuite, two more rooms on the third floor with a shared bathroom. What do you think?’